Saturday, November 21, 2015

I swear there are mind controlling subspace messages out there. They're sending their signals to my subconscious, you see, insidiously forcing me to continuously talk about this hopelessly obscure album of rough acid techno from the mid-'90s.

It all started so innocently, wandering into that used music outlet looking for a few cool, unique scores I wouldn't find in the regular stores. Little did I know those subspace messages were already penetrating my neural pathways, guiding the tiny extraocular muscles within my eye socket towards that lonesome looking white cover with the DNA strand plunk in the middle. Readings of my memory membranes had alerted these shadowy individuals of my fondness for nerdy-named electronic music, knowing I couldn’t resist buying this album with barely a sound check involved. Somehow the masterminds behind these quantum level wavelengths had the foresight I’d end up contributing my thoughts of music to the internet, thus maintaining the Institute Of Frequency & Optical Research’s legacy long after their name had been left to the mists of techno history. They waited patiently, letting the CD sit within my towers for an opportune moment when their music would be brought to light once more.

They chose their target well, realizing my insatiable need to prove that Chaos Theory rules supreme would incite me to introduce the Random Review concept at TranceCritic. That, despite a large collection of music, even the most hopelessly forgotten and abandoned works could be resurrected within the public’s ears if only by mere chance. Sensing their time finally at hand, I was sent the subspace messages intended for motor control of my arm and hand. Despite closing my eyes, doing a quick spin, and running my fingertips up and down the tower, I was manipulated enough that my second Random Review choice ended up being this album. The masterplan unfolds, where, despite the general lambasting and shoddy penmanship displayed in that TranceCritic review, a few dozen more folks in this world came to know of the Institute Of Frequency & Optical Research. Er, yeah, that was one of the doggiest reviews on TranceCritic in terms of views. Guess you just can’t beat reader apathy.

How such a CD sourced from the UK ended up in the backstands of a Surrey pawn shop remains a mystery. Perhaps a former hapless victim of these Subspace Messages overcame his mind control, fleeing as far West as he could go, hoping to toss it into the Pacific Ocean where a giant octopus might mangle it for good. He couldn’t commit though, the subspace messages overriding such desire. He could at least get some money from it though.

At least I know I’m not alone in my mental manipulations, Lord Discogs telling me nine others have suffered this fate. Honestly, it was the fact this was even in the database’s early archives that convinced me it was a website worth keeping tabs on, plus help contribute with my own rare gatherings. Yay for small achievements!